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NORMAN DAILY TRANSCRIPTfs&tHOPKINSADAMSThe MILLION-DOLLAR DOGTo this day, Average Jones main.tains that he felt a distinct thrill atflret sight of the advertisement. Yetfate might well have chosen a moreappropriate ambush in anyone of ahundred of the strange clippings whichwere grist to the Ad-VlBor's mill. Outof a bulky pile of the day's paragraphs,however, it was this one that leaped,significant, to his eye:wanted-ten thousand i,oatin/rblack beetles, by a leaseholder who con-tracted to leave a houie In the pame con-dition en he found It. Ackroyil, 100 W.Sixteenth St.. New York."Black beetles, eh?" observed Aver-age Jones. "This Ackroyd personseems to be a merry little Jester. \V oil,I'm feeling rather Jocular, myself, thistnorning. How does one collect blackbeetles, I wonder? When In doubt,Inquire of the resourceful Simpson."He pressed a button and his con-fidential olerk entered."Good morning, Simpson," said Av-erage Jones. "Are you acquaintedwith that shy but pervasive animal,the domestic black beetle?""Yes, sir; 1 board," Simpson simply."1 suppose there aren't ten thousandblack beetles in your boarding houso,though?" Inquired Average Jones.Simpson took It under advisement."Haplly," he decided.11 "I've got to have 'em to fill an or-der. At least, I've got to have an in-stallment of 'em, and tomorrow.""Ramson, down on Fulton Btreet,will have them, If anyone has," Simp-ton said presently.| Returning to his routine work, Av-erage Jones found himself unable todislodge the advertisement from hismind. So presently he gave way totemptation, called up Bertram at theCosmic club, and asked him to comoto the Astor Court temple offices atbis convenience. Scenting more adventure, Bertram found it convenientto come promptly. Average Joneshanded him the clipping. Bertramread it with ascending eyebrows."What's at One Hundred West Six-teenth street?" demanded Jones."One Hundred West Sixteenth; letme see. Why, of course; it's the oldKeltner mansion. You must know ItIt has a walled garden at the sidethe only one left in the city, Bouth ofCentral Park.""Anyone named Ackroyd there?". "That must be Hawley Ackroyd. Iremember, now, hearing that he hadrented it. Judge Ackroyd, you knowbetter known as 'Oily' Ackroyd. He'a smooth old rascal."f, "Ever hear of his collecting in•ects?""Never heard of his collecting any-thing but graft. In fact, he'd havebeen in Jail years ago, but for his famfly connections. He married a VanHaltern. You remember the famousVan Haltern will case, surely; themillion-dollar dog. The papers fairlyreeked of it a year ago. Sylvia Oraham had to take the dog and leavethe country to escape the notoriety,Bhe's back now, I believe.""I've heard of MIbs Graham," re-marked Average Jones."Well, if you've only heard of herand not seen her," returned Bertram,with something as nearly resemblingenthusiasm as his habitual languorpermitted, "you've got something tolook forward to. Sylvia Graham is adistinct asset to the Scheme of Crea-tion.""An asset with assets of her own, Ibelieve," said Average Jones. "Themillion dollars left by her grandmoth-er, old Mrs. Van Haltern, goes to hereventually, doesn't it?""Provided she carries out the termsof the Will, keeps the dog in properluxury and buries him in the graveon the family estate at Schuylkill des-ignated by the testator. If these terms |are not rigidly carried out, the for- jtune is to be divided, most of it go- jlng to Mrs. Hawley Ackroyd, whichwould mean the judge himself.""H'm. What about Mrs. Ackroyd?""Poor, sickly, 1 ^htened lady! She'svery fond of Sylvia Graham, who Isher niece. But she's completely domi-nated by her husband.""Information is your long suit, Bert.Now, if you only had intelligence tocorrespond—" Average Jones brokeoff and grinned mildly, first at hisfriend, then at the advertisement.Bertram caught up the paper andstudied it. "Well, what does it mean?"be demanded."It means that Ackroyd, being aboutto give up his rented house, intendsto saddle it with a bad name.""It would be Just like Oily Ack-royd," remarked Bertram. "He's a•vindictive scoundrel. Only a few daysago. he nearly killed a poor devil of adrug d«rk. over some trifling dispute.He managed to it oot of thenewspapers but he had to pay a stifffine.""That m4glit be worth looking up,too,' ruminated Average Jonesthoughtfully.He turned to his telephone in an-swer to a ring. "All right, come in,Simpson," he said.The conildentlal clerk appeared.Ramson says that regular black bee-tles are out of season, sir," he re-ported. "But ho can send to thecountry and dig up plenty of red-and-black ones.""That will do," returned the Ad-Visor. "Tell him to have two or threehundred here tomorrow morning."Thus is was that, on the morningafter this dialogue, a clean builtyoung follow walked along West Six-teenth street. Ho was rather shabby-looking. On the evidence of the band-box which ho carried, his missionshould have been menial; but he borehimself wholly unliko one subdued topetty employments. His steady, grayeyes showed a glint of anticipation ashe turned in at the gate of tho high,broad, brown house standing back,aloof and indignant, from the roaringencroachments of trade. He set hisburden down and pulled the bell.Tho door opened promptly to thedeep, far-away clangor. A flashingImpression of girlish freshness, vigor,and grace was disclosed to the calleragainst a background of Interiorgloom. The girl glanced not at himbut at the box, and spoke a trifle Im-patiently."If it's ray hat, it's very late.""It isn't, miss. It's the insects.""The what?""The bugs, miss."He extracted from his pocket a slipof paper, looked from it to the num-bered door, as one verifying an address, and handed It to her.Prom yesterday's copy of the Ban-ner, miss. You're not going back onthat, surely," he said somewhat reproachfully.She read, and as she read her eyeswidened to lakes of limpid brownThen they crinkled at the corners,and her laugl arose from the mid-tone contralto, to a high, birdlike trillof Joyousness."It must have been uncle," shegasped finally. "He said he'd be quitswith the real estate agent before heleft. How perfectly absurd! Andare those the creatures In that box?The first couple of hundred ofera, Miss Ackroyd."The girl looked at him with suspi-cion, but his face was blankly inno-cent.I'm not Miss Ackroyd," she beganwith emphasis, when a querulousvoice from an inner room called outWhom are you talking to, Sylvia?""A young man with a boxful ofbeetles," returned tho girl.Averago Jones mutely held up thebox in one hand and the advertise-ment in the other.Very well," said the girl, in demuretones, though lambent mirth still flick-ered, golden, in the depths of thobrown eyes. "If you persist, I canonly suggest that you come back whenJudge Ackroyd is here. You won'tfind him particularly amenable to hu-mor, particularly when perpetrated bya practical Joker in masquerade."'Discovered," murmured AverageJones.I don't ask any real reason foryour extraordinary call," pursued thegirl with a glint of mischief in hereyes, "but auntie thinks you've cometo steal my dog. She thinks that ofeveryone lately.""Auntie? Your dog? Then you'reSylvia Graham. I might have knownit.""I don't know how you might haveknown it. But I am Sylvia Grahamif you insist on introducing me toyourself.""Miss Graham," said the visitorpromptly and gravely, "let me presentA. V. R. E. Jones, a friend—""Not the famous Average Jones!"cried the girl. "That is why yourface seemed so familiar. I've seenyour picture at Edna Hale's. You gother 'blue fires' back for her. Butreally, that hardly explains your be-ing here, in this way, you know.""Nothing simpler. Once upon a timethere lived a crack-brained young DonQuixote who wandered through an ageof buried romance piously searchingfor trouble. And, twice upon a time,there dwelt in an enchanted Btonecastle in West Sixteenth street an enchanting young damsel in distress"I'm not a damsel in distress," interrupted Miss Graham, pausing overthe adjective.The young man leaned to her. Thehalf smile had passed from his lips,and his eyes were very grave.••Not—er—if your dog were to—er—disappear?" he drawled quietly.The swift unexpectedness of thecounter broke down the girl's guard."You mean Uncle Hawley," sho said."And your suspicions Jump withmine."What do you know about fncleHawley?""Your aunt—""I won't hear a word against myaunt.""Not from me, be assured. Youraunt, so you have Just told me, be-lieves that your dog is in danger ofbeing stolen. Why? Because sheknows that the person most interestedhas been scheming against the ani-mal, and yet sho Is afraid to warnyou openly. Doesn't that Indicate whoit is?""Mr. Jones, I've no right even to letyou talk like this to me. Have youanything definite against Judge Ack-royd?""In this case, only suspicion."Her head went up. "Then I thln/cthere is nothing more to be said."The young mas Hushed, but hisroice was steady as he returned:1 disagree with you. And I beg youto cut short your visit here, and re-turn to your homo at once."In spite of herself the girl was sha-ken by his persistence.I can't do that," she said uneasily.And added, with a flash of anger, "Ithink you had better leave this house."if I leave this bouse now I maynever have a chance to see you again."The girl regarded bim with level,noncommittal eyes.And I have every intention of see-ing you again—and again—Rnd again.Give me a chance; a moment."Average Jones' mind was of the em-ergency type. It summoned to its aid,without effort of cerebration on thepart of its owner, whatever was mostneeded at the moment. Now it cameto his rescue with the memory ofJudge Ackroyd's encounter with thedrug clerk, as mentioned by Bertram,Miss Graham, I've gone rather far,1*11 admit," said Jones; "but, if you'llgive me the benefit of the doubt, Ithink I can show you some basis towork on. If I can produce somethingtangible, may I come back this after-noon? I'll promise not to come unlessI have good reason."Somewhat to her surprise and uneasiness, Sylvia Graham experienced adistinct satisfaction when, late thatafternoon, she beheld her unconven-tional acquaintance mounting thesteps with a buoyant and assured step.Upon being admitted, he went prompt-ly to the point."I've got it.""Your Justification for comingback?'' sho asked.Exactly. Have you heard anythingof some trouble in which Judge Ack-royd was involved last week?"Uncle has a very violent temper,"admitted the girl evasively. "But Idon't Bee what—""Pardon me. You will see. Thatrow with a drug clerk.""Well?""The drug clerk insisted—as the lawrequires—on Judge Ackroyd register-ing for a certain purchase.""Perhaps he was impertinent aboutit.""Possibly. The point is that theprospective purchase was cyanide ofpotassium, a deadly and instantaneouspoison.""Are you sure?" asked the girl, in alow voice."I've Just come from the store. Howlong have you been here at your un-cle's?""A week.""Then Just about the time of yourcoming with the dog. your uncle un-dertook to obtain a swift and surepoison. Have I gone far enough?""I—I don't know.""What is your uncle's attitude tow-ard the dog?""Almost what you might call Ingra-tiating. But Peter Paul—that's mydog's name, you know—doesn't take'to uncle.""He b a wise old doggie," amendedthe other with emphasis. "When doesyour uncle give up this house?""At the end of the week. Uncleand aunt leave for Europe.""Then let mo suggest again that youand Peter Paul go at once."Miss Graham pondered. "No, I can'tdo that."Now, Miss Graham, would it grieveyou very much if Peter Paul were todie?"I won't have him put to death,"said she quickly."Miss Graham," he said slowly,'won't you try to forget, for the mo-ment, the circumstances of our meet-ing, and think of me only as a friendof your friends who is very honestlyeager to be a friend to you, when youmost need one?"Tho girl's gaze met the man's level,and was held in a long, silent regard."Yes," she said simply."Listen, then. I think I see a clearway. Judge Ackroyd will kill the dogif he can, and so effectually concealthe body that no funeral can be heldover it, thereby rendering your grand-mother's bequest to you void. He hasonly a few days to do it in, but Idon't think that all your watchfulnesscan restrain him. Now, on the otherhand, if the dog should die a naturaldeath and be buried, he can still contest the will. But if he should killPeter Paul and hide the body wherewe could discover it, tho game wouldbe up for him, as he then wouldn'teven dare to come Into court with acontest. Do you follow me?""Yes. But you wouldn't ask me tobe a party to any such thing.""You're a party, involuntarily, byremaining hero. But do your best tosave Peter Paul, if you will. Andplease call me up immediately at theCosmic club, if anything turns up.And, by the way, my beetles. I forgotand left them here. Oh, there's thebox. I may have a very specific usefor them later. Au revolr—and mayIt be soon!"Tho two days succeeding seemed toAverage Jones, haunted as ho was byan importunate craving to look againinto Miss Graham's limpid and change-ful eyes, a dull and sodden period ofprobation. The messenger boy whofinally brought her expected note,looked to him like a Greek godling.The note inclosed this clipping:Av«*rnge Jones could, and did. Hefound Miss Graham's piquant face un-der the stress of excitement, distinctlymore alluring than before."Isn't it strange?" she said, holdingout a hand in welcome. "Why shouldanyone advertise for my Peter Paul?Ho isn't lost.""I am glad to hear that," said thecaller gravely.Do you know what that advertise-ment means?"'Perfectly. 1 wrote it."'Wrote it! You? Well—really!Why in the world did you write it?"'Because of an unconquerable long-ing to see"—Average Jones paused,and his quick glance caught tho stormsignal in her eyes—"your uncle," heconcluded calmly.She rang the bell, dispatched a serv-ant, and presently Judge Ackroydstalked into the room."What is tho market quotation onbelles, judge?" asked the young man,tapping the rug with his stick."What are you talking about?" de-manded tho other, drawing down hisheavy brows."The black beetle; the humble butbrisk haunter of household crevices,"explained Average Jones. "You adver-tised for ten thousand specimens. I'vegot a few thousand I'd like to disposeof, if the inducements are sufficient.""I'm in no mootf for Joking, youngman," retorted the other, rising."You seldom are, I understand," re-plied Average Jones blandly. "WellIf you won't talk about bugs, let's talkabout dogs.""The topic does not interest me,sir," retorted the ojher, and the glanceof his eye was baleful, but uneasy.The tapping of the youug man'scane ceased. He looked up into hishost's glowering face with a seraphicand Innocent smile."Not even if it—er—touched upon adevice for guarding the street cornersin caee—er—Peter Paul went walking—er—once too often?"She clung in his mind like s remem-bered fragrance, after he had goneback to Astor Court temple to waitNor had he banished them, when, twodays later, the telephone brought himher clear accents- a little tremulousnow."Peter Paul Is gone.""Since when?""Since ten this morning. The houseIb in an uproar.""I'll be up in half an hour at thelatest. Let me in at the basementdoor at half-past one. Judge Ackroydmustn't see me."It was a strangely misshapen pres-entation of tho normally spick-and-span Average Jones that gently rangthe basement bell of the old house atthe specified hour. All his pocketsbulged with lumpy angles. Immediate-ly, upon being admitted by Miss Gra-ham herself, he proceeded to disem-burden himself of box after box, suchas elastic bands come in, all exhibit-ing a homogeneous peculiarity, a holeat one end thinly covered with a gelat-inous substance."Be very careful not to let that getbroken," ho Instructed the mystifiedgirl. "In the course of an hour or soit will melt away itself. Did you seeanything suspicious in the garden?""No!" replied the girl. She pickedup one of the boxes. "How odd!" shecried. "Why, there's something in itthat's alive!""Very much so. Your friends, thebeetles, in fact. Where is youruncle?""Upstairs in his study.""Do you think you could take me allthrough the house sometime this after-noon without his seeing me?""No, I'm sure I couldn't. He's beenwasderlng like an uneasy spirit sincePeter Paul disappeared. And he won'tgo out, because he Is packing.""So much the worse, either for himor me. Where are your rooms?""On the second floor.""Very well. Now, I want one ofhouse's old bones. Before the faflesman could gather his shaken wits, hs jwas pinned with the most disablinggrip known in the science of combat. ;a strangle hold with the assailant •wrist clamped below and behind th jear. Average Jones lifted his volesand the name that came to his lipswas the name that had lurked sub-consciously, in his heart, for days."Sylvia!" he cried. "The fourttfloor! Come!""The mirror," said Average Jones'Tush it aside. Pull it down."With an efTort of nervous strength,the girl lifted aside the big glass. Be-hind it a hundred scarlet-banded in-sects swarmed and scampered."Unless my little detectives have de-ceived me," Jones said,tho body in there."MDDY'S EVENINGMY ME& MARYGRAHAMBOMNERMR. SUN GETS UP."King Rex, the Roostor," Bald Daddy,"was in a great hurry to get Mr. Sunup." 'You're very lazy,' said King Rex.'Don't you know I've been crowing andcrowing for you ever so long, thosej Cows In the barn want to get out InIhetr day playground, the pasture, andyou'll And'! the Hens and all the little Chickensare in a great hurry to be up. Don'tShe groped, and drew forth a large j be so selfish, Mr. Sun.box. In it was packed the body of "A bright, rosy light began to ap-Peter Paul. There was a cord about j pear, but still Mr. Sun stayed behindthe fat neck. I a hill. Somehow he couldn't get up"Strangled," whispered tue girl, in a hurry as King Rex wanted him to."Poor old doggie!" Then she whirled I He was very, very Bleepy. He did wishupon the prostrate man. "You mur->Mr. Moon would not always be so ant*—-nri rmrfIt's the Insects."derer!" she said very low.It's not murder to put a dyingbrute out of the way," said the shakenman sullenly."But it's fraud, In this case," retort-ed Average Jones. "A fraud of whichyou're self-convicted. Get up."There was no more fight In Judge"Oily" Ackroyd. He slunk to the stair*and limped heavily down to his fright-ened and sobbing wife."Do you mind my saying," BaldJones, "that you are the bravest andlous to get to bed. That made allthe farmyard Animals so eager towake him up, for they didn't careabout Mr. Moon, and they seemed tobe quite glad when he went to bed."Now, Mr. sun was t«lklng and talk-ing to himself, half asleep ail thetime, and such a noise as was goingon in the barnyard and in the barnwhere the Cows were waiting to beallowed to go out Into the pastore.•' 'Think of someone beside yourseli",said King Rex. 'Now look at me.' Mr.lineBt human being I've met in | Sun hadn't the least desire to looka-a-somewhat varied career?" j at King Rex. He didn't see any dif-The girl shuddered, "I could have i ference between his crown and that ofatood it all," she said, "hut for thoa*awful, crawling, red creatures.""Those?" said Average Jones. "Why,they were my bloodhounds, my littledetectives.""And what are they?""Carrion beetles," said AverageJones. "Where the vultures of the In-sect kingdom are gathered together,there the quarry Ilea."Sylvia Graham drew a long breath.any other Rooster. It was only KingRex's great conceit that made himcall himself a King, and make allthe other barnyard Animals think hewas the finest Rooster they had everbeheld."But King Rex continued. 'Now 1will crow three times—then four times—then five tlmse—then six times. Andif, by that time, you're not up, I'll—I'll—I'll—well, I'll do it all over again!'"I'm all right now," she pronounced. ' And the Rooster began to crow and"There's nothing left, I suppose, but \ all his relations began to crow, too,Judge Ackroyd took one step for-ward. Average Jones was on his feetinstantly, and, even in her alarm,Sylvia Graham noticed how swiftlyand naturally his whole form "set."But tho big man turned away, andabruptly left the room."You spoke of having someoneguard the corners of the block," re-marked the girl, after a thoughtful si-lence. "Do you think I'd better ar-range tor that?""No Indeed. There'll be a hundredpeople on watch."He handed her a galley proofmarked with many corrections. Sheran through it with growing amaze-ment.HAVE YOU SEEN THE DOG?$100—One Hundred Doliars-$100For the Best Answer in 500WordsOpen to All High School BoyaBetween row and next Saturday an .old Pug Dog will L'ome out of abig House on West Sixteenth vStreet, between Fifth and SixthAvenue. It may be by day. It maybe any hour of the Night. Now,you Boys, get to work.Remember: $100 In CashOpen to All High School Boya1—Description of Dog.2—Description of Person with him.... l- *• a .3•2-Description of Houso he Comesfrom. . _Account of Where they Go.Account of What they Do.Manuscript? must bo writtenplainly and mailed within twenty-four hours of the discovery of thedog toA. JONES: AD-VISOR,Astor Court Temple, New YorkLOST—PCO POO ANSWKRINO TOthe name of Peter Paul. \ < ry old anilasthmatic. Last seen on West SixteenthBtreet. Liberal reward fur Informationto Anxious. Care of Banner office."Dear Mr. Jones (she had written):"Are you a prophet? (AverageJones chuckled at this point.) The in-closed seems to be distinctly in ourline. Could you come some time thisafternoon? I'm puzzled and a littleanxious. Sincerely yours,BYLVIA GRAHAM."^rtrtrCrtrCrCrCrCrCrCrCtt"That "will appear in every NewYork paper tomorrow morning," ex-plained its deviser."I see," said the girl. "Anyone whoattempts to take Peter Paul away willhe tracked by a band ot boy detec-tives. A stroke of genius, Mr. Aver-age Jones."She curtsied low to him. But Av-erage Jones was in no mood for play-fulness now."That restricts the judge's endeav-ors to the house and garden," said he,"since, of course he'll see the adver-tisement.""I'll see that he does," said MissGraham maliciously."Good! I'll also ask you to watchthe garden for any suspicious excavat-ing." , ."What am I to do next?" she asked."Do as you would ordinarily do;only don't take Peter Paul into thostreet, or you'll have a score of high-school boyB trailing you."these little boxe9 left in every roomin the house, if possible, except onyour floor, which is probably out ofthe reckoning. Do you think youcould manage it soon?""I think so. I'll try.""I'll be here at four o'clock, and willcall for Judge Ackroyd. You must besure that he receives me. Tell him itis a matter of great Importance. Itis."With even more than his usual nice-ty was Average Jones attired, when,at four o'clock, he sent his card toJudge Ackroyd. Small favor, however,did his appearance find, in the scowlingeyes of the Judge."What do you want?" he growled."I'll take a cigar, thank you verymuch," said Average Jones innocently."You'll take your leave, or stateyour business.""It has to do with your niece.""Then what do you take my timefor, damn your impudence?""Don't swear." Average Jones wasdeliberately provoking the older manto an outbreak. "Let's—er—sit downand—er—be chatty."The drawl, actually an evidence ofexcitement, had all the effect of stud-ied insolence. Judge Ackroyd's bigframe shook."I'm going to k-k-klck you out intothe street, you young p-p-p-pup," hestuttered in his rage.His knotted fingers writhed out for ahold on the other's collar. With asinuous movement, the visitor swervedaside and struck the other man, fiat-handed, across the face. There wasan answering howl of denKiiac fury.Then a strange thing happened. Theassailant turned and fled, not to theready egress of the front door, butdown the dark stairway to the base-ment. The judge thundered after, inmaddened, unthinking pursuit. Aver-age Jones ran fleetly and easily. Andhis running was not for the purposeof flight alone, for as he sped throughthe basement rooms, he kept castingswift glances from side to side, upand down the walls. Judge Ackroydtrailed his quarry like a bloodhoundthrough every room of the third floor,and upward to tho fourth.The fourth floor of the old housewas almost bare. In a hall-embrasurehung a full-length mirror. All alongthe borders of this, Average Jones'quick-ranging vision had discernedsmall red-banded objects which movedand shifted. As the glass reflectedhis extended figure, it showed, almostat the same instant, the outstretched,bony hand of "Oily" Ackroyd. With asnarl, half rage, half satisfaction, thepursuer hurled himself forward—andfell, with a plunge that rattled theto leave this house. And to thankyou. How am I ever to thank you?"She lifted her eyes to his."Never mind the thanks/' said Av-erage Jones unevenly. "It was noth-ing."'It was—everything! It was won-derful!" cried the girl, and held outher slender hands to him.As they clasped warmly upon his,Average Jones' reason lost its balance.Bending over the little, clinging hands,he pressed his lips to them. Only fora moment. The hands slipped from his.There was a quick, frightened gasp,and the girl's face, all aflush with anew, sweet fearfulness and wonderingconfusion, vanished behind a pondar-ous swinging door.Tho young man's knees shook a lit'tie as he walked forward and put hislips close to the lintel."Sylvia."There was a faint rustle from with-in."I'm sorry. I mean, I'm glad. Glad-der than of anything I've ever done inmy lile."Silence from within."Listen, there mustn't be any mlsunderstanding about this, dear. If yousend for me, it must be because youwant me; knowing that, when I come,I shall come for you. Good-by, dear.""Good-by." It was the merest whis-per from behind the door.Two days later he sat at his desk,and Mr. Sun did move quite a way upbehind the hill for the barnyard crea-Vlr. Sun Hadn't the Least Desire toLook at King Rex.tures could see tho reflection and itbegan to grow brighter and brighter." 'He's coming,' cackled some Hens." 'He's coming,' quacked someDucks." 'He's coming,' grunted some Pigs." 'He's coming,' brayed two Donkeys." 'He's coming,' gobbled three Tur-keys.And from the barn came forthstrange sounds that seemed very muchin a murk of woe. No word nor sign like 'Moo-moo,' but which really meant,had come to him from Miss Sylvia Gra- He's coming.'ham. He frowned heavily as Simpson " 'Well, I can see quite plainly thatentered the inner sanctum with the it's very mean of me to stay in bedusual packet of clippings. my longer—though 1 do love Uis time"Leave them," he ordered. 3f the year for sleeping. I feel so-"Yes, sir." The confidential clerk lazy.'lingered, looking uncomfortable. "Any<thing from yesterday's lot, sir?""Haven't looked them over yet.""Or day before's?""Haven't taken those up either.*'Why, no you don't at all,' shoutedsome Dewdrops, 'you drive Mr. Moonaway in the rudest possible manner—j and as for those little Stars, you reallyI are very unkind to them to make themIf I might suggest, there's a very leave the sky so soon, and it's justinteresting advertisement in yester- pretense on your part when you sayday's paper repeated this morn—" j you hate to get up.'"I don't want to see it." " 'That's true. 1 think I want to ^"No, sir. But—but still—it it seems get up ever so early and then I amto have a strange reference to the sorry I've been so impatient an'' 1burial of the million-dollar dog, and think another little snooze wo^vin'tan invitation that I thought—" I hurt at all.'"Where is it? Give it to me!" For " 'Is it time to get up?' asked oneonce in his life, high pressure of ex- little Morning Glory of another ascitement had blotted out Average it opened up just the least little bit.Jones' drawl. His employee thrust " 'Almost,' said a big, dark purpleinto his band this announcement from Morning Glory.the Banner of that morning: "And when Mr. Sun heard the Morn-DIED—AT loo WEST SIXTEENTH , l°g Glories talking, up above tho hillstreet. September 14, Peter Paul, a dog, he came and began shining with all hismight, for now he was wide,awake."The Animals chatted and madegreat deal of noise, the Flowers opened"their sleepy eyes, and Biniled, andsaid:" 'Good morning, Mr. Sun. What abeautiful day it is, and what a hand-some suit you're wearing today. Wedo like bright colors, you know.'"But in a little room in the housenear the barnyard a small Boy hadbeen dreaming wondrous dreams. 'Ohdear,' he sighed, I never can sleep awink after the Sun comes in my win-dow. I suppose I must get up and letthe Cows out of the barn. Oh, dear,or dear, how -I do wish the SunI wouldn't rise so early in tho Summer! —when I ought to sleep after the longI year of lessons I've had.' And sleep-ily he got out of bed." 'Well,' said Mr. Sun. 'Did anyoneever hear of such a funny earth?When I don't shine they abuse me,and when I do shine they say theywish I'd sleep longer. There's no sat-isfying everyone it appears. I'd liketo take a day ofT and call down thoRain Drops—but that'll do now for an-other day!'"for many years the faithful and fondcompanion of the late Amelia Van Hal-tern. Burial In accordance with the wishand will of Mrs. Van Haltern, at the fam-ily estate, Schuylkill, September 17, atthree o'clock. Ills friend, Don Quixote, 'is especially bidden to come. If he will.Average Jones leaped to his feet"Where's my hat? Where's the time-table? Get a cab! Simpson, you idiot,why didn't you make me read this be-fore, confound you! I mean God blessyou. Your salary's doubled from to-day. I'm off."'Yes, sir," said tho bewildered Simp-son.Miss Sylvia Graham looked downupon a slender finger ornamented withthe oddest and the most appropriateof engagement rings, a scarab beetlered-banded with three deep-huedrubies."But, Average," she said, and thegolden laughter flickered again In thebrown depths of her eyes, "not evenyou could expect a girl to accept aman through a keyhole.""I suppose not," Bald Average Joneswith a sigh of profoundest content."Some a for privacy in these mat-ters; others for publicity. But I tup-pose I'm the first man in history whoever got his heart's answer in an ad-vertisement."(CosyrUht. The Bobba-MerrtM CompaayJ